


Symptoms include fever, discovering talents, and realizing you're in love

by em13bubble



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Despair Disease (Dangan Ronpa), Hinata Hajime Has Despair Disease, Komahina - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:07:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26957059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/em13bubble/pseuds/em13bubble
Summary: Where Hajime gets the despair disease instead of Nagito and it basically makes him act like Izuru Kamukura. Hajime thinks Nagito is interesting and cuddling ensues.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 14
Kudos: 531





	Symptoms include fever, discovering talents, and realizing you're in love

Hajime woke up with a burning fever. Getting dressed this morning was a task all in itself, his bones ached and even though he was filled with intense heat, making his forehead bead with sweat, he found himself shivering. His clothes were heavy on his skin, and he considered stripping down and crawling back into bed, letting the others look for him later. But no, laying back down in his cottage would be boring. He hated being bored. He sighs, wiping his forehead and straightening his tie before trudging out into the warm sunlight.

Almost everyone is at the restaurant now, chatting amongst themselves. If anyone talked to Hajime, he ignored them. It was all routine at this point, predictable. No- something wasn’t right. There was a shift in the air, the temperature rose slightly around Ibuki and Akane, and he supposed him as well. They were both acting strange, not their typical selves. Silently, he pushed the others out of the way and checked their foreheads. 

“101.6 and 101.4. They have fevers.” He states back to the group in a monotone voice. Raising his voice in concern at such an ordinary thing as a fever seemed unnecessary. 

“Ah? Hajime shouldn’t you leave the doctoring to Mikan? She would know better than you, even if she is a worthless hag.” Hikoyo sneered. Mikan tries to stutter out a weak rebuttal but Hajime ignores her. 

“She may double-check my work but I am not wrong. They are sick, though it doesn't seem clear with what. Their behaviors are vastly different from their normal selves, which is not a symptom of any disease or infection I am aware of.” Hajime is aware of how the others are looking at him, and he decides he doesn’t particularly like it. He adjusts his tie, swallowing in the heat of the restaurant. 

“Hajime…” Chiaki starts quietly, but before she can formulate the sentence in her mind, Nagito erupts with the joy that had been building up within him.

“This is amazing! Hajime, perhaps you have finally discovered your Ultimate talent! And at such a time to be so useful to the group! Maybe your talent has something to do with the medical practice, just like Mikan! The despair of our friends falling ill is being overrun with the hope of your gifts! Isn’t it beautiful?” He was clutching at himself, warmth rising to his face, but Hajime knew it wasn’t another fever.

Hajime was so busy staring at him that he didn’t know Chiaki had come close to him until there was a hand resting on his forehead. She hums, pressing her lips together in her thoughts. Hajime replaces her hand with his own, an understanding jolt coming through him at the touch. “101.8” 

“Hm.. thought so.” Chiaki nods, “You were acting strange too.” 

Was he? He felt fine. Besides the heat, he felt sharper than ever. He felt like he could do anything he put his mind to- challenge any of these ultimates at what they do best and be victorious against them. 

“Dun dun dun!!” The grating voice of that two-toned bear mascot of theirs rises up, getting the attention of the group. It appears this sickness is their new motive. 

While everyone is panicking, rushing the others to the hospital, coming to terms with their quarantine, and their fear of splitting up the group, all Hajime could wonder is what kind of biochemicals Monokuma had access to. A disease spread by a vector- a mysterious bug on this island that is undetectable- giving a completely new disease that changes not only a body’s physical state but also the mannerisms of the patient, the fiber of their personality rearranged.

The two by his side were Chiaki, who looked concerned, and Nagito, who couldn’t take his eyes off Hajime. He looked enthralled, even with the other simply lost in thought. Hajime was just grateful they didn’t touch him. He could walk fine on his own, and the heat was becoming unbearable. Luckily that was helped very soon when he was able to change into a hospital robe. The loose-fitting garment helped cool the sweat on his body, though the fever still raged underneath his skin. 

He sits on his bed and looks up at the group of the healthy in front of him. Fuyuhiko and Chiaki would stay in the lobby, Mikan would tend to the sick, others would stay in the motel. He sighs, he never realized how boring they all were before this moment… Hajime could predict every line, every inflection in their voice as if he could read off a script. 

“What should we do with the creep?” Fuyuhiko says, nodding to Nagito. Hajime says the same thing at the same time, in an almost perfect impersonation. The group looks at the sick patient, and he looks back at them with a blank expression. “The fuck?” They say again at the same time. Fuyuhiko gets increasingly unnerved, taking a step back, “How did you- Hey! Stop doing that, it’s creeping me out!” It was like he had an echo in the room, a reflection that was only just slightly lagging in a way where you could tell there were two voices instead of one. 

“You shouldn't get so worked up,” Hajime states, breaking the impression, “Your wounds are still healing. We don't need a fourth patient. Mikan wouldn’t be able to handle it all on her own. I could assist but I doubt you all will let me leave this bed.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Nagito getting worked up again, practically shivering with excitement. Perhaps not... All of them were boring. 

“I-I think the.. patient sh-sh-should be a-alone now. He needs r-rest.” Mikan starts ushering everyone out. In a moment- much quicker than he might normally be able to move, Hajime was on his feet and holding tightly onto the sleeve of the green jacket belonging to the ultimate lucky student. 

“Hajime..?” Nagito’s eyes were wide, surprise laced into his voice at the touch. 

“This one stays,” Hajime says, looking at Mikan. She was the one with the authority over patients. If she says it was okay, then the others can’t argue. She is the only one he has to convince.

“I-I don’t think that’s a good idea, H-Hajime. H-he might get sick too! A-and-”

“I’m going to be resting in bed, bored, looking for ways to entertain myself. I will continue to cause you trouble by leaving my room and sneaking out to do something interesting. Something tells me that I would be very good at sneaking out, especially once you create a routine of checking in on other patients. By leaving my room I might find myself in other places on the islands, risking further contamination for the group as a whole.” The words came so easily to him, he could envision everything clearly and he had every intention to go through with this plan, should he be bored enough. 

“But- I-I don’t-”

“He is interesting to me. If he stays, I will be compliant and allow you to treat me. I will stay in my bed and not disrupt my rest unless instructed otherwise. Are we clear? He stays, I behave. He leaves with the rest, I leave too.” 

Everyone was dumbfounded, especially Nagito. 

Hesitantly, Chiaki breaks the silence after Hajime’s negotiation, “Nagito? Are you alright with that?” Hajime had not thought to ask Nagito, mostly because he already knew the answer.

“I-If it pleases an Ultimate, of course! I don’t know why he would choose to spend his time being bedridden with scum like me, but it seems like the only answer, right? For the sake of the group, I can stay here. Knowing my luck, I might not even get sick!” He was grinning wildly, his hand covering Hajimes on his sleeve before quickly pulling away, thinking he didn't have the right to touch him back. The touch was like a strike of a match inside them both, and Hajime was curious to experience it again. It was something new, not predictable. 

“O-okay… If you insist…” Mikan gives in, and the others follow suit. “N-now please get into bed..! Please.”

Hajime, as promised, complies, pulling Nagito along with him. He lets go when he gets into bed. He wanted to feel that spark again, but wouldn’t with the others in here, he would find their thoughts and input unnecessary. Mikan treats him while Nagito stands at the foot of his bed. The two boys can only stare at each other for the time being, neither of them wavering. Hajime can now see how much Nagito hides from them. The lucky student knows so much, it was clear in how observant he is. And yet, he wasn’t predictable like the rest. The slight quirk of a smile threatens to break Hajime’s stoic expression. 

And then, Mikan leaves, and they’re alone. Hajime glances at the door, then back to Nagito. The silence sits with them like a third guest, settled and comfortable in its proximity. Hajime sits up and leans forward, taking Nagito's hand and gently pulling. That spark happens again, he can feel his heart beating faster in his chest. Nagito understands the nonverbal request and walks from the foot of the hospital bed to the side. With one final tug, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing Hajime. They were so close, Hajime could just wrap his arms around the other. But before he could follow through with that curious thought, Nagito speaks.

“Hajime... How were you able to do all those amazing things earlier? First the temperature, then impersonating Fuyuhiko- you sounded just like him! And you knew what he was going to say! And when we were walking here, I know you were trying to understand something. But it wasn’t like in the trials, you clearly were able to go so much deeper into your thoughts! It was so impressive to watch, even if I had no idea what you were thinking about. It’s not like I could understand an Ultimate anyway… And when you were talking to Mikan, you had so much confidence, just like a real ultimate should! So, do you remember your talent now? I’m sure whatever it is, it’s brimming with hope!” 

Hajime frowns softly. How was he supposed to collect data and know if Nagito felt the same spark he did if Nagito always talked like this? He couldn’t tell if his quickened pulse was from Hajime’s touch or from the mention of hope. Was there a way of telling? As he said, Nagito was not predictable. How is he to know his behavior from moment to moment? Perhaps any of the Ultimates could make an advance on him and he would happily accept the role if it made an ultimate happy, his feelings would matter much less. He realized that he really didn’t like that idea, someone else taking this interesting person away from him. Nagito was the only interesting thing on this island, and with teen romances and a killing game, there were a number of things that could take Nagito away. He shook his head, clearing his mind. He knew he could figure out a solution, but there were too many variables at the moment. 

Nagito takes the movement as an answer to his previous question. He looks a bit deflated, “Oh, that's alright. Maybe once you get better, you’ll remember. Or, maybe.. Hm.” he presses his lips together, glancing down at the bed. Hajime tilts his head. He didn’t understand the change in emotion, so he fell back to a thought in his head that told him how to read Nagito’s body language. Slumped shoulders, avoiding eye contact, a loss of tension in the muscles, slight fidgeting in his fingers to play with the hospital blanket. 

“You’re upset.. You are worried that I won’t get better- Ah, no. You are worried I will never remember my talent. I see now.” 

Nagito looks up in surprise, “How did you… Hajime you really are amazing! I was just thinking about the symptoms of this despair disease... It obviously makes the person infected act almost the opposite of how they normally would- I mean, why else would you want to be near trash like me? You hate me!” a laugh rises from his chest and it doesn't stop as he talks, “I’m disgusting! And you’re holding my hand! I don’t know what twist of luck this is for us, but I know once you’re better you’ll remember how much you hate me- how much you want me dead! Ahahahah! Y-you’ll be so disgusted you ever touched me, you’ll probably take a boiling hot shower just to feel cleansed from garbage like me! Hahaha! You’ll never forgive me-”

“I never have wanted you dead.” Hajime interrupts sternly. Nagito was mentally going into a place that Hajime didn’t like, so he stopped him in his tracks. “So, your idea is wrong. I don’t hate you- I don’t think I have ever hated you. At times I was confused. Sad, maybe. Angry and frustrated… too many times. But I have never hated you. The basis of your hypothesis is flawed, therefore your worry about me never remembering my talent is unreasonable.” He pokes Nagito's forehead, “Clear your mind of thoughts like that, they only serve to do you harm.” 

Nagito was gripping at himself, a usual habit of his, though this time it was incomplete due to his other hand still enfolded in Hajime's. He nods fervently, trying to hold back lines of drool. 

Satisfied with the agreement, Hajime relaxes back on the bed, realizing just how tired he was. He didn’t want to sleep, he wanted to get up and  _ do. _ He could feel he was capable of so much, even with the slight ache in his movements and the tiredness weighing his eyelids down. But.. he agreed to stay in bed. And the only way for his body to battle this odd disease was to rest. His eyes had fallen shut without his realizing and he opens them again before sleep takes him over. Wordlessly, he shifts on the small bed so there is as much room as possible, then he pulls Nagito to lay down with him. It just seemed like the logical thing to do, it would increase both of their physical comfort if Nagito was to stay in here all this time anyway. 

Nagito was struggling for words, having a million things he could say of why this was so wrong- But. Hajime’s arms were so strong, so secure around him. And the sick boy had already drifted off to sleep. Disturbing him now would only wake him, which would not be right to do for a patient who needs rest. Nagito's body begins to relax in incremental amounts, and all he could do was stare at the one cuddling him. “H-how lucky am I..?” he almost laughs but holds it back behind a grin to not wake Hajime up. He would take a thousand punishments, a hundred beatings from the universe if it meant he could be held by Hajime Hinata. 

_____

The days continued within the Hospital, Mikan treating the patients with little luck for recovery. Hajime would hold Nagito in his arms and discuss with him whatever was on his mind. The meanings of his dreams, the components of a super vitamin he thinks he could create, the way he would make the population of the insect served as a vector on this island sterile if he could just get his hands on the right lab equipment. They talked about hope, and despair. Good luck and bad. Whatever they remembered of their life before this killing game. Hajime being in this state of mind gave them something they had never had before: a chance to talk. An opportunity to understand each other. Nagito still was unpredictable to Hajime, and still very, very interesting. 

The fever was only getting worse and there were times when he felt like his head might split down the middle. And yet, a part of him didn’t want to get better. He could deal with pesky physical conditions if he meant he was improved. He felt like this was a better version of himself, and it concerned him that.. If he did get better, he wouldn’t be able to keep Nagito close anymore. The worry crept into his mind that if he went back to the way he had been, Nagito would no longer dance those slender fingers across his cheeks when the room was dark and the hospital was quiet, painting his touch on his freckles. It would only go back to the way it had been. When he was distant towards the lucky student out of frustration- god, so much exhausting frustration. He didn’t want to go back to that. He didn’t want to lose him. 

It may be that worry was what caused him to notice. It could have slipped right past him if he wasn’t so disturbed at the thought of losing Nagito Komaeda. Nagito was once again close to him, his legs over Hajime’s lap as they talked, and as Mikan checked his IV. He had become more protective of his companion, to the point where he would be sure to shift him to the side opposite of where a visitor might be. He would pretend to pay them no mind, listening to Nagito or staring at his pretty, thin lips, while his hold on the lucky student gave away just how aware he was of the potential threat in the room. So maybe that’s how he noticed: He already saw Mikan as a threat. Her fingers brushed against his skin and that was enough. He thought the warmth in the room was only his fever, but her touch- she was burning up. He looks up at her, she looks down, and their eyes meet. For a moment he can see it- he can sense it. The despair within her. His hold on Nagito gets tighter, and she looks away. His heart was pounding, watching her as she worked. He didn’t know why he was so nervous. She was sick, like the rest of them. There was nothing concerning about that besides that their Nurse was exhausted and out of commission. 

But his mind had already jumped to a conclusion and was waiting for his logic to support it. Their shy, benevolent, caring nurse, getting a disease that turns you inside out with despair. Her opposite. Something vile, Hajime was sure of it. 

Mikan left the room and Hajime turned to Nagito, who was looking at him in return. He knew. He must know. His observant mind, he must have noticed. But he is pretending not to, simply looking up at Hajime with a curious glance, wondering why his conversation partner suddenly stared down the nurse trying to help him. 

He should warn the others. Chiaki and Fuyuhiko were in the lobby, he could tell them that the nurse was also infected. But what if giving away her secret only put a target on his head- or worse, put one on Nagito. He runs through many different scenarios in the time Nagito blinks, a slow cat kiss with white eyelashes. He couldn’t risk it. 

Hajime didn’t sleep that night. He only held Nagito and listened and watched and waited for any signs that someone might come to take him away. 

_____

He must have fallen asleep at some point because he woke up to an odd sensation. The splitting headache that usually accompanied him until breakfast, was missing. His fever was gone too, so was the heavy ache in his body. He sits up and stretches, sighing in content when everything felt... Lighter. Well, there was one thing anchoring him to the bed, an arm, slung over his waist, belonging to a still sleeping lucky student.

He blinks at the sight. Nagito Komaeda, sleeping peacefully and... Cuddling him. He blinks again and rubs his eyes, but the scene doesn't change. He pinches himself and lets out a soft, “Ow,” when it does nothing but make his skin sting. Hajime swallows and pulls his gown together with a tight knot. He was only in his underwear after all! He tries to think, but not a lot was coming to him as to why he woke up like this. He was.. sick, right? Ibuki and Akane were the same. Why was Nagito in his bed? Even if he had gotten sick too, it wouldn’t make sense for them to share a bed. Maybe Ibuki and Akane were sharing a bed too? No, this hospital was huge, he saw that when Fuyuhiko got hurt. He sighs, shaking his head. He was thinking way too much- he feels like he's been living in a dense fog these past few days and he's just now in the clear. 

He shifts Nagito’s arm off of him and stands, taking hold of the stand connected to the IV in his arm. He should find Chiaki, ask her what had happened. Just as he makes a step towards the door, he hears the bed shift underneath a waking body.

“Hajime..? What are you doing up?” Nagito yawns and sits up, looking at him with sleepy, half-lidded eyes. His green jacket cast aside, his loose-fitting shirt slipping off his shoulder, he looked almost cute like this. Hajime felt a jolt in his heart with what he did next, reaching out his hands, beckoning him back to bed, “You need your rest... Come lay back down.” It was an open invitation into Nagito’s arms, and Hajime froze. 

“I-” He could feel his face get warm, but it wasn’t because of a fever. He clears his throat, “I feel better today, I don’t think I need to lay down. I-I think I’m going to find Chiaki. You can.. Stay in bed if you want.” The sentence was so close to domestic, like Hajime had woken up first and was planning on making breakfast for the both of them. He swallows down the ridiculous image, his palm getting sweaty against the cold metal of the IV pole stand. 

“Are you feeling bored again? I’m sure we can find something interesting-” Nagito had reached out-  _ Nagito reached out and touched him. _ He took Hajime’s wrist gently, but soon his eyes went wide and he pulled back. “Your... Your fever is gone.” 

“Yeah, I thought it was... I felt normal, but I don't really remember much of what happened..”  _ Like why you were in my bed with me. _

“Do you know your temperature?”

Hajime quirks an eyebrow at the odd question, placing his hand on his forehead, “Um, it feels normal. What’s the normal temperature? 98 something, right?” He didn’t understand why Nagito looked so deflated at that answer, “Do you want me to still be sick!?” he asked in an indignant tone. 

“That’s not it at all... You don’t remember anything from when you were sick? Not even..” Nagito looks down, a hand coming up to his hair. Hajime couldn’t read him at all, but he didn’t like that yet again, Nagito knew something that he didn’t.

“Not even what? Nagito, what do I not remember?” He stood up straighter, he wanted an answer. A clear answer, for once. 

Nagito sighs, holding onto himself, “Hajime..” He says his name in the way only the lucky student could manage. Hajime ignores the way it makes him feel like he always does. But before Nagito could answer, Fuyuhiko nearly breaks down the door.

“Good, you’re already up. Did you hear the announcement? You guys gotta come quick it’s- it’s bad. Ibuki and Hiyoko-” 

Hajime felt his stomach sink. He didn’t have time for all of this- foggy heads, pretty boys and conflicting feelings, IVs and hospital gowns. He had to get out there and investigate and help everyone. “I’ll be there as soon as I can, I have to get dressed first.” 

Nagito was on his feet, slipping his jacket back on. Even with so much to say, both of them kept their mouths shut as Nagito left the room. 

_____

The Trial was over and Hajime felt tired. It wasn’t like the other trials, this one was just a mask for something much more sinister. Something dangerous and evil, lurking in the shadows and waiting to strike. Nagito said this was a crime full of despair, and Hajime believed that to be true. 

Hajime was left standing on the beach, trying to wrap his head around Mikan and her talk of her beloved, her motive of the crime, the way she was  _ excited _ for an execution. The waves crashed in a soft, lulling rhythm, a warm breeze ruffled his hair softly. It was a nice night, but Hajime couldn’t bring himself to enjoy it. 

Soon, he wasn’t alone. Nagito stood next to him, the dark sea merging with the night sky to the point where you had to guess where the horizon lay. 

“You called me interesting.”

Hajime looks at him, not understanding what that was supposed to mean. Nagito looks back and smiles. 

“When you were sick. You said I was interesting, and that you were bored unless I was close to you. Isn’t that just absurd? It really must have been a despair-inducing disease if you were made to something so nice to scum like me!” He laughs, too quiet to be his normal animated self. “Maybe you had a liar’s disease? God, what torture that must have been for you! Trying to tell me how much you hate me, how much you wish I would just leave and die, and instead, I stay. I had the audacity to take your word, and stay by your side! Just my luck, you must hate me even more now.” 

Hajime's face was burning. He said that? So Nagito in his bed... He asked for that? Did he want that? God, who was he kidding, of course he wanted that. But to admit it when he was suffering from some unknown sickness.. That’s humiliating. He looks down at the sand, thinking about how it would be so easy to cover his tracks, to say that it all was the fever’s fault. Nagito might believe him. Hajime found himself closing his eyes, shaking his head, his nerves spreading through him. “No, I don’t think it my symptoms included lying.” He sighs, exhaling a few seconds longer to try and calm himself. Gently, he takes Nagito’s hand and looks at him. “I don’t know.. Exactly what I said. But I doubt I was lying.” he didn't think he would ever do this, he didn’t have anything prepared to explain all the crazy things Nagito Komaeda makes him feel. 

Nagito’s eyes were wide, his body stiff with the sudden admission. “Hajime? I- Heh, I don’t think I understand, hah-” a nervous laugh escapes him, torn between intertwining their fingers or pulling away and running. Hajime makes the move before him, lacing their fingers together.

“I think you probably do. But..” He swallows, “If you don’t, I’ll explain more. I… I-If something happened to you, I don’t know what I would do. I don’t understand you, Nagito, but I.. really want to. I want to know you and spend time with you. I want to know that you’re safe. Does that make sense?” He honestly wasn’t sure if it did. He could never formulate the right thoughts when it came to Nagito. 

“No,” Nagito said with a shake of his head. It didn’t make sense whatsoever. Someone wanted to spend time with trash like him? An Ultimate wanted him to be safe- No, not just an ultimate... Hajime Hinata. Hajime wanted him safe. It didn’t make sense, the idea was laughable! But when Hajime starts to pull his hand away, Nagito tightens his grip, keeping him there. And Hajime smiles. He had such a beautiful smile, Nagito was grateful for the luck that allowed him to see it. 

“I like you, Nagito. I’m sorry it took a despair disease for me to admit that.” He rubs the back of his head, a small, ashamed smile gracing his lips. Much to his surprise, Nagito’s arms soon wrapped around him in an embrace, which he accepted and returned happily. He laughs a bit, “Does this mean you feel the same?” To that he only got a very vehement nod as an answer, Nagito's face only pressing further into the nook of his neck and shoulder. They held onto each other like they might never let go again.


End file.
